


Relaxing

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Soul Eater, Soul Eater Not!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 14:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1269727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When the answering call comes back -- “Hey Akane,” slow and calm and steady -- some of the collected tension in his shoulders unwinds." Akane comes home stressed out and Clay convinces him to relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relaxing

“Clay?”

Akane is calling out even before he has the apartment door fully shut behind him, while he’s still toeing off his shoes in the entryway. It’s a small apartment and he knows Clay is there; it would be easy enough to check each room until he finds his partner. But when the answering call comes back -- “Hey Akane,” slow and calm and steady -- some of the collected tension in his shoulders unwinds even before he’s set his bag at the table and shuffled down the hallway to the bedroom where Clay is sprawled out.

The weapon’s got a game controller in his hands, lying stomach-down and wrong-way-round on the bed so he’s closer to the television stand at the foot of the mattress. Akane fought against that addition to the bedroom, but at the moment he’s just glad that it’s put the bed and Clay in the same space so he doesn’t have to choose between them. He drops down on the edge of the bed, letting the mattress take his weight while he shrugs free of his school jacket. Clay rolls over behind him and the murmur of sound from the television cuts off as he saves and returns to the start screen.

“Hiya,” the weapon says against the back of Akane’s hair. There’s another shift of weight and the blond’s legs come around on either side of Akane’s as his chin settles into the curve of the meister’s neck. Akane huffs out, exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and shifts his weight sideways slightly so the pressure on his shoulder is a counterpoint rather than a burden. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Akane says, but Clay’s hands are coming around his waist, and the way he’s starting to work his meister’s buttons open says that Clay knows the lie of that as much as Akane does.

“Mm,” Clay hums in nonverbal encouragement, and when he pulls gently back Akane leans so the weapon is supporting most of Akane’s weight against his chest. He keeps sliding buttons free all out of order between the top and bottom of Akane’s shirt, and after a moment Akane smiles and reaches up to pull his tie free himself.

“I missed you,” he says without twisting to look at Clay’s face. He doesn’t need to see his partner’s face to get the reassurance of physical contact, and when he tips his chin down he can watch the soothing rhythm in the fingers pulling at him buttons.

“I can feel that,” Clay observes, rocking his shoulder forward so his arm digs gently into Akane’s back. “You’re wound up tighter than you’ve been in a while.”

Akane heaves a sigh. “Yeah. I like having you around.” Clay’s got his shirt undone. The weapon slides the fabric apart so the cooler air of the apartment hits Akane’s skin, and the meister flinches from the cold before hands come in to replace the chill with the warmth of fingers.

“Not that I can’t function on my own,” Akane goes on. Clay pulls his collar back with his teeth so he can hum with his lips pressed against the meister’s shoulder so Akane shivers and smiles. “I just…”

“Like having me around,”Clay finishes for him. The words are mumbled and lost to the friction against his skin, but the conversation is familiar with repetition so Akane doesn’t need to really hear the words.

“You got it.” He brings a hand up to thread through Clay’s soft hair and the weapon smiles into his shoulder and leans back, pulling so Akane falls onto his shoulder and they both end up on the mattress. Clay wiggles out to free himself from under Akane’s weight, and when he comes in to kiss the other boy they’re both smiling in spite of the stress still tight in the small of the meister’s back.

“You need to relax,” Clay observes. He rest his mouth against Akane’s jawline, presses kisses against the skin in between his sentences, and his hands are sweeping out along the edge of the meister’s ribs until Akane squirms and wiggles away so Clay has to catch the edge of his pants to hold him still.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Clay grins. Akane can feel his teeth brush against his skin when the weapon speaks. “But you need to hold still. Can you just lie back for me?”

“For you?” Akane says, shutting his eyes so he can drop into the purring flirtatious tone he sometimes takes with girls at the Academy. “I’ll do  _anything_  for you, Clay.”

The sound of the weapon’s chuckle curls through the darkness behind Akane’s eyelids. “You are such a flirt.”

“I’m just practicing,” Akane smiles as Clay’s hands reach the waist of his pants and curve over the fabric covering his hips. “I have to be ready to seduce you when I get the chance.”

“Seems like you have a chance right now,” Clay observes. One hand comes around under Akane’s ass, but it’s the other sliding over the front of his slacks that makes the meister’s thoughts scatter into incoherency for a moment. “But you’re letting your weapon take the lead, how’s that work?”

“I was told to relax,” Akane manages, although the words are a little higher and a little less controlled than he intends. “My orders are my number one priority.”

Clay laughs again, and this time the sound is close against Akane’s stomach so he’s ready for the brush of lips against his skin. “You’re so cute.”

The meister shivers, and it’s only his promise to relax that keeps him from rocking up off the mattress to press against Clay’s lips.

“You are too,” he contents himself with saying, and he’s rewarded by Clay’s fingers working the front of his slacks open and curling in past the fastenings to press against his rising erection through the fabric of his boxers.

“I know you think so,” Clay murmurs. He’s shifting his weight, but if Akane keeps his eyes open it’s nearly impossible to resist the temptation to reciprocate or anticipate or  _react_ , so the meister keeps himself in self-imposed darkness and listens to the shuffle of fabric on sheets and the squeak of the mattress under the weapon’s weight until Clay’s hands shift from their exploration to grip his hips and lift him bodily sideways.

“There,” the weapon says, softly enough that it’s clear he’s speaking to himself. “That’s better.” His fingers scrape over Akane’s hips to catch the edge of his pants and the meister lifts himself up off the mattress for a moment so his partner can slide his pants and boxers free in one motion. He does open his eyes then, comes back up onto his elbows as he drops back to the bed so he’s looking down at Clay as the weapon comes back in to crawl onto the mattress between Akane’s legs.

“Relax,” the weapon says again, grinning lopsided and lazy as he reaches out to push back against Akane’s shoulder so the meister drops back to the bed. “You’re really bad at this, you know.”

“Relaxing?” Akane does fall back, though he keeps his eyes open so he can stare blankly at the white of the ceiling while listening to Clay’s movement. “I think you may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Don’t feel bad.” Clay’s mouth ghosts against Akane’s abdomen, lips brushing in momentary contact so Akane hisses in reaction even before the weapon exhales slow and warm against his chilled skin. “You’re so good at everything else, it just keeps you human.”

“See, further evidence of our compatibility.” Akane blinks slowly and grins even though Clay’s not looking at him. “Because you’re  _terrible_  at everything except blowing me.”

That startles a shocked laugh from the weapon, as Akane knew it would, and he grins wider even as Clay smacks his hip lightly. “Don’t be a dick, Akane.”

“But I’m so good at it.” The laughter is audible in his voice even though he’s fighting back the actual sound, and when Clay growls in mock-anger against his stomach he giggles before he can hold it back. “You said it first, not me.”

“And I am regretting that  _already_ ,” Clay mutters, but the words blow warm over Akane’s erection and the meister’s teasing evaporates in  _want_  as he realizes how close Clay’s mouth is to where he wants it. “Funny how much of that I do when you’re around.”

“So all the time?” Akane offers, and then Clay’s mouth comes down around him and he stops speaking in favor of rocking up into his partner’s mouth. He’s halfway through a sharp inhale at the sensation when Clay pulls back and the breath in Akane’s throat turns around into a groan of frustration at the deprivation.  
“ _Clay_ ,” he starts, coming back up onto his elbows, but the weapon’s reaching out to catch his rising shoulder and push him back down to the bed.

“Akane,” he says in gentle imitation of the meister’s tone. “You need to  _relax_ , okay?”

Akane whines in frustration and brings his hands up to make fists of his hair. “Oh my god, seriously? Do you want me to just lie back and  _let_  you suck me off without  _doing_  anything?”

He means it as patent absurdity, but Clay chuckles and says, “I knew I’d get through to you eventually.”

“That is  _impossible_ ,” Akane complains, but he falls back to the bed and throws his arms out limp at his sides anyway. “I am physically incapable of doing that and you know it.”

“Something else you’re not perfect at?” Clay purrs over him. Akane shuts his eyes and flinches back from the desire to rock up towards his partner’s mouth. “I won’t believe it of you.”

His mouth comes back down, lips just barely sliding over the head of Akane’s cock, and the meister sighs in satisfaction and tries to breathe slowly and carefully instead of fast and desperate.

“It’s not something  _else_ ,” he says when he can trust his voice. The words come out slow with his deliberation, heavy with their low speed until they sound distant and dreamy. “It’s just an extension of the same thing.”

“Mm,” Clay hums without moving his mouth away. The vibration shoots up Akane’s spine like a shock and he starts to arch up against it for  _more_  before he fights back the impulse and drops back to the mattress.

“This is really hard,” he observes, carefully lifting his hands to stroke gently over his weapon’s hair.

Clay pulls up and away, dragging his tongue across the sensitive flesh as he does so so Akane groans in sync with his movement. “It’ll be better if you relax and you know it,” he says, leaning in to kiss against Akane’s hip while his fingers slide gently over the other boy’s waist. Akane sighs in defeated agreement and consciously keeps his fingers from forming into fists in Clay’s hair, and after a moment the weapon comes back in to take Akane back into the hot friction of his mouth.

“I do know,” Akane says as Clay comes back down, and the words are only a little strained by the circumstances. “But I just want  _more_   _faster_  and it’s...it’s going to take longer this way.”

Clay laughs around him, and he doesn’t need to say  _that’s the point_  for Akane to get the idea. Akane keeps his eyes shut and tries to focus on breathing and letting the pleasure collect under his skin instead of reaching out to seize it. It’s hard, especially when he can  _feel_  it bubbling hotter as Clay hums or slicks his tongue across the meister’s length or dips down to take him farther into his mouth. He  _wants_  to arch up, curl his toes and rock up in time with the movement of Clay’s head, pant and gasp and whine until he chases down the orgasm he can feel coming.

He does none of this. He keeps his eyes shut, and keeps his fingers in Clay’s hair instead of tangled in his own, and lets his breathing slowly pattern itself into panting instead of forcing himself there. Clay doesn’t change what he’s doing, just keeps the same slow steady rhythm he started with, but the slow stroke of his fingers over Akane’s bare skin spell out approval and encouragement that neither of them need to clarify, and as Akane’s breath comes faster Clay moves faster too, sucks a little harder and dips his head down a little farther.

Akane can feel the pleasure simmering under his skin, promising more in a minute, whispering a reward for his patience, but he’s so used to straining towards the gratification that when the wamrth rises into climax he is startled by the sudden flush of heat. He only has time to say, “ _Oh_ ,” and then “Clay,” as a desperate warning before his throat tightens into a moan and he pulses hot into his weapon’s mouth. The wave of pleasure hits him and whites out the shadows behind his eyes, pours down into his toes and fingers and drowns out any self-consciousness at the way his breath is coming out as a stuttered moan with every exhale. Clay’s mouth is still moving over him, slow and warm, and every shift of the other boy’s mouth pulls another rush of heat along Akane’s veins until he’s sure it’s been  _minutes_  of pleasure rolling through his body and he thinks he might pass out and can’t care.

It does fade, after far longer than he expected. Akane blinks, unsure if he’s opening his eyes just now or refocusing a blank stare at the ceiling, and Clay slides his mouth free and comes up the bed to lay himself down half-atop his meister and kiss Akane’s shoulder with damp lips.

“How do you feel?” he murmurs, his breath ruffling Akane’s dark hair. Akane laughs weakly and tips his head in towards Clay so the weapon can kiss the corner of his mouth instead of his jawline.

“Relaxed,” he has to admit. “Extremely relaxed. I may never move again.”

“Mmm,” Clay purrs. “Excellent. If I can only be good at one thing I’m glad it’s this.”

Akane coughs a laugh and kisses against the closest patch of Clay he can reach, which turns out to be his eyebrow. “So’m I. Honestly you having any skill at anything else is hardly fair. What was that you said about staying human?”

Clay knits his brows in exaggerated consideration. “Wait. Are you admitting I may be good for things other than getting you off?” His eyes go wide and he curls in close against the meister. “You  _are_ , aren’t you.”

“I am doing no such thing,” Akane murmurs into bronze hair, smiling drowsily. “You should stick with what we know you’re good at.”

Clay laughs and rolls over Akane so his head is resting on the other boy’s chest, and Akane shuts his eyes and smiles.


End file.
